


Stigmatized

by Lire_Casander



Category: Hanson
Genre: Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-25 16:52:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/955488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lire_Casander/pseuds/Lire_Casander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story about love in which perfection isn't necessarily what everyone seems to think it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_  
If I give up on you, I give up on me  _

_ If we fight what's true, will we ever be? _

 

I always found it hard to say goodbye to you. Even when we were children, when it was only a meaningless word because I would see you again. But we are no longer small boys, life has struck us time and time again. And I am losing you, although I'm to blame because I left what we built with so much effort. But you must understand me, though I know you never will because even I can't understand myself. I'm scared – me, who would never admit out loud to being afraid, I am terrified.    

 

Sometimes I feel like I'm trapped in a bubble, and I can't seem to find the way to break it to escape, but neither can I find the entrance. It's as if the bubble had grown around me all of a sudden, preventing me from returning to the place where I belong. To you. We have grown up and we have parted ways, little by little, as a result of life's misfortunes, the process of becoming adults. And still today, with as just a short time as I have left, I regret not having been able to say aloud what I really think.   

 

I have spent years trying to hide my feelings, letting my mind win the battle, without a question, without an answer. Without hope. I've lost track of how many times I have put your necessities before mine, but only once did I let the rational part of my heart take control. And I'm suffering because of that only time -- even if I thought it was for your own good, it really was nothing more than the selfishness and the fear dimming my mind and stealing my feelings.

 

I left you, and by doing that I left myself too. Now I understand we were one, and when I lost my faith and hid the truth I was closing the door to happiness. Now I can’t find the place where I belong, because I lost the map of your soul and I am not able to recover it.    

 

_ Even God himself and the faith I knew _

_ Shouldn't hold me back, shouldn't keep me from you _

 

After everything, after the pain and the words said at the wrong moment, I still feel like we are made for each other. Do you feel it too? Those pins and needles inside whenever we are close, whenever our skin brushes, whenever I extend my hand and touch you. Those butterflies in my stomach when I think about you, about your shining eyes looking back at me. But I lost the right to watch you years ago, and all because of a stupid mistake.     

 

Who decides which love is allowed? Who determines when love is prohibited? There was a time when I thought that religion, the faith and the God which they had taught me to adore, were responsible for putting in order in the threads that move our lives. And there was a time when not even my religious education kept me from feeling complete when you were close.     

 

I still remember, with dazzling clarity, the moment when I knew I loved you. It was a spring day, shortly after dawn. We weren't at home but in a hotel. I was awake, on an elbow in the mattress, and I observed your sleeping figure on the bed next to me. Your even breathing was the only sound in the room, filling the air with smooth notes and rocking my heart. At that precise moment I knew I could wake up every day of the rest of my life to see you asleep by my side. I wasn't even twelve, but I was already sure of what I wanted. You.      

 

What changed? Was it me? I am no longer sure about anything, except my love for you. It's the only thing that I know. A long time ago nobody would have been able to keep me away from you, not even the faith they imposed on me. You were my reason to live, the force that kept me going. Today, you still are the blood running in my veins, but the veil of reality has made its way between us, that invisible veil that annuls everything, turning it gray and dark. What I feel is real, but the world, God, the society we live in and my mind say that it can't be. And, nevertheless, in all this time nobody has been able to keep me away from you.    

 

_ Tease me by holding out your hand _

_ Then leave me or take me as I am _

 

That spring morning you woke up and watched me with that innocent smile shining in your eyes. Perhaps at that time you would have tried to understand what I felt for you unsuccessfully. Nor did I understand it. But the simple fact of knowing it would have scared you as much as it scared me. That spring morning, you extended your hand and played with the edge of my sheets. But it was as if you had touched the limit of my soul. So close yet so far. You laughed and I shook my head. You were still a little boy in spite of your size. You have been a child all this time, and I was thinking, trusting, that I could turn you into a man who loved me back. Was I that blind?    

 

There was a time when I thought I could do anything if I only had the certainty of your love. Well, even at this precise moment, writing these lines, I know I would if you loved me. But I lost that right to be invincible the moment I decided to unveil my soul and tell you my feelings. I am not worthy, I'm dirty and stained by the shade of a sin that I wouldn't mind committing again.    

 

I left you, or you left me, it doesn't matter. I played with fire and I burned the last bridge; I scared you or you scared me, or perhaps both. I wasn't brave enough to show myself as I am, and I let you move away from me. But now I'm going to try to fix the mess my life has turned into. Or maybe not, maybe I would only try to show the inner me, that part of me nobody but you knows.    

 

_ And live our lives stigmatized _

 

That spring morning my only fear was that you didn't understand, because it was all too complex. Today it still is, but we both have grown up and made our decisions, and are enabled to approach this situation with another perspective. That spring morning I decided to wait for a while.    

 

Every day I told myself to wait, and wait, and wait. The only reason why I kept living without going crazy was because I hoped someday things would come my way. I was mistaken.    

 

The day you turned sixteen was the one I had chosen to step into your heart. It felt as if I couldn't wait longer, and it seemed to me a good birthday gift. It was not a spring day but a cold one, but I was awake before dawn, waiting for you for you to open your eyes while your breath rocked me. You were so beautiful, asleep and unaware of what was going to happen, that I thought I could give you my gift while you couldn't feel it. Your lips called me, lush, red and full under the light of the first rays of a standoffish sun. I rose from my bed, in the room we still shared, and walked barefoot to yours. I leaned down until I could feel your breath on my face and, with a last surge of courage, I put my lips on yours.   

 

I kissed you.    

 

You woke up mid-kiss, which was silky and sweet as every first kiss should be, though it wasn't the first kiss of neither of us. But your reaction was not the one I thought. There were no smiles nor "I love you" in a low voice, not even your trembling hand around my neck forcing me to kiss you again. You looked astonished. Scared. You pulled away from me and yelled that I was crazy. That I was sick.    

 

Several years have passed by since then, and I have tried to get over what I feel. But it's impossible. I love you, I can't do anything else. But I don't want to ruin your life, nor do I want you to take the blame for my decisions.    

 

I always found it hard to say goodbye to you, though it's the only thing left to say. I don't want you to always live with the stigma and the burden of this secret. Remember that I was only your brother. Never forget me.    

 

I love you, Zac.    

 

Taylor     


	2. Chapter 2

_  
I can feel the blood rushing through my veins  _

_ When I hear your voice driving me insane _

 

I found your letter next to the bathtub, and I read and reread it so many times that the paper almost came apart in my hands. I no longer know if it's right to call it letter, or testament, or epitaph. Or maybe it only was a SOS call. The thing is that I discovered it after finding you, inert, fallen down on the porcelain full of water, your wrists opened in deep cuts that I didn't know how to close. Why, Tay? Why did you do it? I didn't understand your reasons until I read your letter. And then I wanted to die too.    

 

Your voice taps in my head, saying the words you wrote. I know you so well that I'm able to put sound to your writing. The blood that runs in my veins is a reminder of the blood that stretched leaving your body and slipping off the bathtub. I miss you, Taylor, and you're not even gone yet. Thanks to the instinct that made me come to your flat, that forced me to throw down the door of the bathroom. I don't know what would have become of me if I hadn't arrived in time to find you.    

 

Isaac, Mom and Dad are with here me. Denia hasn't come with Isaac because Lucas is too small to travel from Washington. Hopefully you could see them, they don't mind what happened these last years, our discussions without truce for hours. They only want you to wake up, they don't understand why you have done it. Or that's what I at least want to believe. Now I regret going to study at UCLA as soon as I had a chance, though it was only for a semester. I must have seen the signals, have understood before. But I was so locked up in myself and in my fear to see beyond me.    

 

I remember the birthday you speak of. I remeber every second of that day, how each one of my dreams and my fears became real in front of me. I can't stop reliving it in my memory, and I'm going crazy.    

 

_ Hour to after hour, day to after day  _

_ Every lonely night that I sit and pray _

 

My first day in Los Angeles, I knew it wasn't my place to be, but my pride prevented me from returning at that precise moment. I would have regretted it. I learned so many things there, things that have served to help me understand what was happening to me.    

 

Since my childhood, they have taught us what is considered correct and what is a deviation. My tendency to fix my attention on boys instead of girls didn't appear in the Bible. And nevertheless it couldn't be bad. It couldn't.    

 

For years I hid the fact that I like boys the most, something that I discovered at a very early age. But I wasn't prepared for the discovery I made later. I fell in love, and that's a feeling I strongly recommend to everybody. As you can anticipate, I had a problem. You.    

 

I had fallen for you. For my big brother, for the blond, blue-eyed boy who charms everyone with his smile. First I wanted to think that it was brotherly admiration, but lately I discovered that I didn't feel the same for Isaac. I admire him, he is our brother, the one who has taught us most of what we know about the real world. But Isaac doesn't have your personality; he is not you.

 

And every night I have asked for this torture to end, this torture that's eating me from inside out. And each morning I woke up with the certainty of loving you.    

 

_ Tease me by holding out your hand  _

_ Then leave me or take me as I am _

 

It's true that I was scared when you kissed me. I was only sixteen, and my greatest dream was feeling your lips against mine. But you were also my biggest fear. I rejected you, I said you were sick, I forced you to swear to never try it again, but everything was a smoke screen to hide the truth: that I was as stained as you.    

 

Then we began to grow apart. It was then that I chose to hide my true feelings behind thousands of walls, at the bottom of my heart. Until then, we had been perfect sons, and I wanted it to remain like that. Apparently, you didn't; that was your own choice. While I showed a face that wasn't mine, you showed that they were mistaken in everything they had wanted to teach us.    

 

You began to go out every night, a different bar, a different boy. You began to drink, and shortly after that began your night raids, your late returns and your incapacity to stop. We spent months putting up with your morning hangovers, your afternoon bad temper, your night escapades. Until you brought the first unknown boy home. Mom couldn't stand it anymore, do you remember? When she opened your door in the morning and saw that half-naked stranger coming out from your bathroom, I thought she was going to have an attack. Was he really your first, Taylor? How many more did you have, how many wild nights? I wanted to be each and every one of your first times, and what I got in return was that you distanced yourself more from me.    

 

The words never came easily to my mouth, I have always preferred music. Although you already know I love drumming, your guitar helps me to write when I need it. And nevertheless, I'm here, writing the longest letter in my life to a person in coma who will maybe never read it. Ironically enough, I believe that your letter wasn't destined to such a premature reading. It wasn't easy for you to say goodbye, Taylor, so don't say it. Don't make me live with the weight of knowing that I am to blame for this.    

 

Please, wake up and yell at me, but don't go away in silence. I need to hear your voice.    

 

_ And live our lives stigmatized _

 

The last time I spoke to you I triggered all this tragedy. It'd been four years since you kissed me on my birthday, and your life was turning aside so much that I feared for you. I didn't want to lose my only support.

 

I came back home from Los Angeles to study at Oklahoma University when Dad suffered his heart attack. You didn't even know what had happened, you were so blinded. Mom had threatened you two years before: you changed your attitude or you went out of our house. Of course, you chose to leave, and I couldn't do a single thing to stop it. Things went from bad to worse after you left, and when I came back not even Isaac could stay at home without causing a fight. Now do you understand why he left too?    

 

A month ago I got to convince you to come have lunch at home, I wanted to talk to you and to explain my reasons, because I had never had enough courage to face you. You came, but we didn't have time. Mom had promised that she wouldn't say a thing, but she broke her promise. When you entered, the yells and the insults began. I wasn't aware of how much everything had changed. And then she gave me as her example, as the perfect and heterosexual son that you should have been but weren't. I tried to stand up for you, but I couldn't find the words to say how much I love you. The fear came over me. The fear. You looked me in the eye and stopped fighting. Two days later I went to your flat with the firm intention of spilling my truth, and I found you in the bathtub.   

 

I entered with your key, the one you had given Isaac before he left for Washington. He gave it to me on his wedding day, and he said that perhaps I would need it in the future. Today I am glad he did it. Ike is the only one who tries to convince to me to come back home and sleep a few hours. Mom and Dad come, but they remain in the waiting room. But I can't. I wish I had been able to take care of you.   

 

I said that words never came easily to my mouth, but I'm reading to you everything I write because I know you can hear me. What I mean, Taylor, is that you must keep fighting. There's something left to fight for, you still have a lot to live.    

 

Please, come back to me and let me take care of you. I need you, Taylor, you are the only reason why I'm still here. Hoping someday I can tell you I love you. It's the only thing I have left to say.    

 

I love you, Taylor. Don't leave me now, when I'm able to accept it.   

 

Zac

  



	3. Chapter 3

_ We live our lives on different sides  _

_ But we keep to together you and I _

_  Just live our lives, stigmatized _

 

The sun filtered through the half-closed shutters. A man dozed on a couch, moving every so often. A young boy was spread halfway across a chair and the hospital bed where another boy, maybe older than him, remained connected to several machines that controlled him with their beeps. It was a little past six in the morning.    

 

"They are a pretty stamp," a nurse said from the door frame. "Three brothers so close."    

 

"I'm not so sure that they are brothers," another nurse told her. "I think that the one on the chair is Taylor's boyfriend; Taylor is the ill one. The one on the couch must be Taylor's brother."    

 

"And how do you know they're a couple?"    

 

"I heard him say that he loved him and he needed him. Brothers don't usually say that."    

 

"It's obvious you're an only child!"    

 

Both came into the room to make the first round of the day. They verified the patient's vitals without waking up the other two men and left without any noise. Nevertheless, the man on the couch stretched and stood up.    

 

"Zac," he called quietly. "Zac, wake up, you have spent the whole night in the same position, that can't be good."    

 

"Isaac? Is it already morning? " the boy in the chair asked.    

 

"Yes, and you have slept all night lying on Tay's bed."   

 

"Oh." 

 

Zac got up slowly, watching his brother who was still sleeping. He shook his head and passed a hand through his forehead.    

 

"Good morning, Taylor."    

 

"You keep thinking he can hear you, don't you?"    

 

"The doctors had told us to speak to him because they think he'll respond to verbal action, Isaac. I am not going to give up."    

 

"He tried to throw in the towel, Zac, just a month ago. I’m beginning to think that we might have to let him finish what he began."    

 

"You sound just like Mom and Dad," Zac spat. "I am not going to let him die. He tried, yes, but I found him and he's still alive for some reason. I am not going to give up."    

 

He looked again at his brother, lying on the bed as if he was asleep. Zac sighed; he was sure Taylor was fighting in his subconscious mind to keep living, but he had to convince Isaac at least. Zac feared that his parents would try to force the doctors to disconnect him from the machines that kept him alive.    

 

He blamed himself for what Taylor had done. Had he reacted in time when his brother had kissed him, none of this would have happened. He cursed his lack of courage and his indecision when Taylor had needed a defense.    

 

"I have always been a coward," he said aloud, frightening Isaac. "You know? Years ago, I should have accepted what he offered to me. If I had, we wouldn't be here now."    

 

"You're not guilty, nor to blame for which happened years ago. It isn't healthy, and it's not true either."    

 

Isaac got up of the couch and hugged Zac. He felt his youngest brother needed all the love that he was able to give him. In spite of the distance, he could stay close to his two brothers. Two years ago he had left for Washington trying to flee from a familiar atmosphere that oppressed him. His house was no longer what it used to be, or perhaps it never was what he thought. Their parents argued with Taylor over his choices, for his sexual tendencies, for the people he went out with. Little by little, the discussions extended to the rest of the family; Zac went to Los Angeles and he remained as the last bastion of sanity, but it didn't last long. Once his father recovered from the heart attack, Isaac had accepted a job with a music magazine in Washington, and he had packed his suitcases and went away.    

 

His departure had forced Zac to grow up all of a sudden; it had forced him to hide his true identity from the world. Isaac had discovered a secret that Zac had kept bottled up inside for years, and perhaps that was the perfect moment for talking about it.    

 

"Zac, do you remember the weekend Tay and I went to visit you in Los Angeles?"    

 

"I remember that clearly," Zac smiled watching his oldest brother. "It was the best weekend of my life, the three of us wandering around and enjoying like in the old times."    

 

"We arrived a little before you thought we did," Isaac confessed. "But we didn't say anything to you because... well..."    

 

"Isaac?" Zac looked at him worried. He remembered perfectly what he has been doing up to ten minutes before meeting his brothers.    

 

"You were kissing another boy."    

 

Zac let go of the breath he had been holding and blushed violently. Part of his secret was in the open; his stay in Los Angeles had been useful to experiment far from his house and to get over all his frustrations. It had been the place of all his first times.    

 

"Are you gay, Zac?" Isaac didn't sound displeased but only curious.    

 

Los Angeles could have been the place to live all the sensations to the limit, but he had only felt complete when seeing those blue eyes waiting for him at his dorm door.    

 

"Does the answer matter that much?" he answered with a sigh. "It's not going to change anything."    

 

"It would change many things." Isaac gestured to Taylor. "If you really believe he can hear you, it would change much. Are you gay?"    

 

"Yes."    

 

"And are you in love?"    

 

Los Angeles could have been his way of escaping, but he couldn't flee eternally from himself. He had tried to move away, but the distance had not helped him escape from his feelings.    

 

"Right now, yes. With the same person, for so many years."    

 

"I have listened to each word you were saying to him, Zac. And although I don't understand it nor share it, I believe that what you feel is the only thing that can make him wake up."    

 

Isaac approached the door and opened it with a sad smile. When he left, Zac was too stunned to understand the reach of what Isaac had confessed to him.

 

_ We'll live our lives,  _

_ We'll take the punches every day.  _

_ We'll live our lives  _

_ I know we're gonna find our way _

 

He heard voices on a distant spot, but he could not call them. He recognized his brothers, he felt them close but he could not touch them. Their arms didn't respond to his attempts to move them.    

 

The words tapped in his mind, those sounds that had made him stop halfway through that tunnel without light at the end. Who had said that he would see a light? It was all dark when he arrived. But he had satrted to walk, moving away from the beginning of the tunnel, when he heard Zac's voice calling for him. Words hadn't had a meaning until a series of sounds said with a voice broken by tears.    

 

"I had fallen for you. For my big brother, for the blond, blue-eyed boy who charms everyone with his smile."    

 

He wanted to take his hand, to rock him and tell him everything was going to come out well, but he couldn't move. Perhaps he was further than he thought, he repeated to himself, and he came back arduously thorugh the tunnel until he reached its beginning. But there he couldn't touch Zac either. Desperate, he sat in the dark to wait, to try to calm Zac without saying a single word.    

 

"I need to hear your voice."    

 

He tried to speak but he couldn't articulate any word. He wanted to caress Zac's cheek and tell him how everything was going to come their way, but he didn't have voice. He wanted to cry and shout, he wanted to fight. He no longer had the desire to die, and suddenly the tunnel frightened him. But he couldn't find an exit. Without voice, powerless, was he condemned to hear his brother suffer without helping him?    

 

"I love you, Taylor. Don't leave me now, when I'm able to accept it."    

 

He had rebelled against his own incapacities. He had jumped in the tunnel, he had screamed without voice, and the light had broken through above his head. He thought he glimpsed some stairs that would take him to the exit, to Zac. He began to climb.    

 

"I am not going to leave you, Zac," he thought. "I am not going to give up. I am coming."    

 

He tripped, he took hold of himself, and he continued climbing. The stairs seemed endless to him. He tripped again, but he had an objective to fulfill. This time he was not going to fail.   

 

"And are you in love?" Isaac asked from the distance.    

 

"Right now, yes. With the same person, for so many years."    

He was arriving, he could feel it. The light was brighter, and it dazzled him. Holding onto the stairs, he kept climbing. He was sure that this time everything was going to come out well. He was ready to fight for what he felt.    

 

There was light in the tunnel, but not at the end but at the beginning. He was so close that he could almost feel Zac's breath on his face. He was so close...    

 

He found his voice and the nerves of his arms responded to his desire to move. He reached Zac's hand with difficulty and caressed it almost imperceptibly. Hardly a quiet voice.    

 

"Zac."    

 

He was only aware of those chocolate eyes fixed on his while everything revolved around him.     


	4. Chapter 4

_  
 I believe in you  _

_ Even if no one understands _

 

It has been a long time since I last wrote on my diary. I didn't have any reason to write. But today, when I’m finally able to hold the pen without fearing that my arm will shake, I want to tell what has happened lately.    

 

After almost a month in a coma, the recovery is painful. I was unable to walk without falling, I couldn't hold a fork or a spoon, and I got tired easily. The doctors said I needed some time to get fully recovered, and they were not mistaken. I have spent the last four months, three weeks and two days getting better, and I'm officially completely healthy now. I don't have to come back for a medical appointment each week, though I'm forced to visit a shrink: a gift from Mom and Dad. 

 

It seems they didn't come in my room while I was in the coma, but they have made sure to announce that I tried to commit suicide, and have pressured the doctors so much that I have had seven different shrinks. Fortunately, now it's me who decides. I set my own rules.    

 

Dr Green is a good person. His office is in Oklahoma City, not in Tulsa, and after many and renewed fights with my parents I have been able to move out of town. The flat is small but cosy, enough for gay and unemployed man like me. Well, not so unemployed. Isaac has found a job as a editor in a music magazine for me. It's not much, but I can live with it. In addition, Zac's university is near my new house.

 

Zac.   

 

I don't remember much of what it happened when I was in the coma. Only a dark tunnel, or maybe it wasn't a tunnel, and a voice that called for me to wake up. But when I opened my eyes he was there, watching me, as if he hadn't gone from my side in all that time. Hours later, Isaac convinced him to go home to get a  shower and some sleep. We spoke -- well, he spoke, and I listened.    

 

"Taylor, I am glad you're all right," Ike said. "I was not sure that you'd make it, but we both know Zac is the expert in having faith."    

 

I only nodded as he spoke slowly, trying not to tire me too much. In my mind, next to the words of my oldest brother, the glance of my younger brother registered. Then, Isaac said something that left me speechless.    

 

"Tay, when I left for Washington nobody understood it. When Denia fell in love with me, nobody gave a damn for us. Not even me. But I married her, and we have a beautiful baby." Isaac inhaled. "What I want to tell you is that, although nobody understands you, what you feel is a reason to keep fighting. I read your letter, and I listened to Zac. I don't understand you, I'm not sure I ever will, but I can't prevent you from feeling. Who puts labels on our hearts? You love him and he loves you. That's enough to get over every problem."    

 

I know that it wasn't easy for Isaac to tell me those things, but he tried to open my soul. I had Zac, though I couldn't talk openly to him, and that was enough for me.    

 

_ I believe in you,  _

_ And I don't really give a damn  _

_ If we're stigmatized _

 

I fought to recover, I fought against everyone who didn't believe in me. I argued for the last time with my parents, threw them out of my life, and though at first it was difficult to adapt to what I had organized, Zac helped me.    

 

It's been a week since I moved into my new flat. The day that I moved in, Zac and Isaac threw a welcoming party for me. Denia and Lucas traveled from Washington. There were only the five of us and Walter, the Zac's best friend in Oklahoma. It was perfect, very calm, just what I needed. Walter went soon to his dorm, since he had to study for an exam. Isaac and his family went to their hotel room so the baby could sleep. Zac and I stayed alone.    

 

He forced me to sit on the couch while he prepared something for dinner. He brought it to the small dining room and sat by my side. We were together, in silence, for a long time. Until every sound in the street was extinguished. Then he looked tenderly at me and smiled.    

 

I have always liked his smile. It is pure and limpid, and when he smiles, his whole face smiles. But I didn't know that smile; the time and the distance had made me grow away enough not to know which of his many smiles it was. In a film I once saw, it was said that the main character had five smiles. Zac has at least a thousand. I couldn't count them all; each small detail is a subtle change.    

 

He smiled at me and he tucked a tuft of hair behind my ear. It was a gentle movement, sweet and slow, that gave me goosebumps. He approached me slowly, as if he was taking in what he was doing, until his lips brushed mine. Was he about to kiss me?    

 

"I know that the last time we did this, I was scared," he said. "But this time I want to show you that I wished for it to happen then, too. I have had four years to face my fears."    

 

It was twelve o'clock by then, and I realized it was his birthday. Had he planned it?    

 

"The world doesn't matter to me, Taylor. I only know that I have waited for too long to say to you that I love you."    

 

And then he kissed me. I felt his full lips on mine, pressing without hurting. I felt his tongue asking for permission to enter my mouth, and his victorious smile when I opened my lips and let him in.    

 

It wasn't his first time, nor mine, but it was as exciting as if it had been.

This week has been like a walk throught the clouds. Until yesterday, more or less. Nobody here knows that we are brothers, and that's why we thought that we could display our love without problems. We were mistaken.    

 

When I was out yesterday with Zac, who came to take me out for lunch, a young man, around our age, insulted us. He yelled at us on the street for our sexual preference. Without knowing us, without knowing that we're brothers _and_ boyfriends. What would happen if somebody found out? What would happen then? I am terrified that this is really a sin and we will always have to live with that stigma above our heads.    

 

_ We live our lives on different sides _

_ But we keep together you and I _

_ We live our lives on different sides _

 

So tonight we have talked about a bunch of things. Things like our relationship. It's not possible, at least not here. We would have to wait until people change, and perhaps a whole life is too much to wait for. 

 

We have decided to split up.    

 

Well, writing it down doesn't make me feel better. So many years waiting for this moment, our moment, and after ten years we must let it die because of society’s narrow mind. I am still too weak to fight, and Zac must finish his studies. I can't let him be distracted from what really matters.    

 

We are going to have a break, to give us some time; I want to see how I can fix everything to legally stop being a Hanson, so that nobody can accuse us of incest and take away Zac's teaching license, which he's going to obtain next summer. Only a year...    

 

We are going to be happy. I know it. We only have to wait. And though it's hard for me once I've tasted what it's like to be with him, I have to go through the experience. The final prize is worth all this trouble, isn't it? 


	5. Chapter 5

_  
We're gonna live our lives _

_ Stigmatized _

 

A beach. A heavenly island somewhere in the ocean. A figure dressed in white waits under a parasol holding a cocktail. In the sand, a six-year-old boy makes a castle of sand. Next to him, a woman with Latin characteristics plays with the boy and gives him what he needs. They are on holiday.    

 

"Do you want another cocktail, Mr. Hanson?" a waiter asks the man under the parasol.    

 

"No, thanks."    

 

"The sirs will arrive immediately. Your brother had an important meeting to take care of, an unexpected commitment."    

 

"Knowing Zac," the woman says, "it will be the mother of some student."    

 

"Surely, Denia."    

 

Then the figure of a young man in his twenties appears in the walkway, tanned, accompanied by another blond, blue-eyed man. The waiter nods stealthily and leaves.    

 

"Isaac, Denia, I'm so glad that you could finally come here!"    

 

"We wouldn't let this pass by, Zac."    

 

"I suppose that this is Lucas," Taylor says gladly. "How are you doing, mate?"    

 

They see them talking like old friends, the parents happy for having found the couple again, Taylor and Zac for being with their family. 

 

"Carlos," calls Taylor to the waiter. "You can bring the food already."    

 

"So why this island and not any other?" Denia asks. "You could have moved to a place where it wasn't necessary to speak another language."    

 

"This is the only legal place for us whose landscape we both liked," Zac says.    

 

"Zac can be an English teacher, and I write for a local music magazine," Taylor explains. "Everything will be perfect tomorrow at twelve."    

 

"Exactly, exactly, be on time!" Isaac jokes. "By the way, who is going to arrive late, like a good bride?"    

 

Everyone laughs, but nobody answers. Isaac pretends to get upset and crosses his arms, rising from his chair to go next to his son.    

 

It's been five years since the last time they met, from the moment when Taylor and Zac decided to take a break on their brand new relationship. Five years is the time Taylor needed to take Smith as his legal name; five years is the time they spent looking for a place where they could get married. Isaac doesn't know why he finds it so simple to accept that his brothers are going to marry each other. He supposes that people will never stop having surprising reactions.    

 

They have said thier vows time and time again, but they sound as fresh as if they were saying them for the first time, when they repeat them aloud, in front of the judge.    

 

"I have loved you my whole life. I will love you for the rest of my life, and in the next," Taylor says.    

 

"I was scared once, twice, but now that I have found you again I can't let you go. I love you," Zac says with tears in his eyes.    

 

A beach. A heavenly island somewhere in the ocean. Two figures walk hand in hand by the border of the sea. They are no longer afraid. 

 

They only live their lives, far away from everything that could hurt them. Stigmatized.

  



End file.
